Among the Slytherins
by Snickerz2
Summary: Harry Potter’s daughter, Anne, has just received her letter to Hogwarts. However, she is in for a surprise. After a legacy of Gryffindors in the Potter line, a new Slytherin has arrived.
1. Prologue

Prologue to Among the Slytherins

Continuation to the summary:

A new generation . . . Harry Potter's daughter, Anne, has just received her letter to Hogwarts. However, she is in for a surprise. After a legacy of Gryffindors in the Potter line, a new Slytherin has arrived. Now Anne is amongst strangers with morals she has been taught to despise all of her life. Why did the Sorting Hat place her here? That is the main question she must have answered. However, along the way she makes a surprising new friend - Mark Malfoy, son of her father's worst enemy. Through him she discovers a plot to reinstate a new Dark Lord. A battle of morals versus peer pressure as she tries to decide which side she is on.

Hey, I'm restarting the story just because I was kind of in a funk when I started writing this, and I didn't exactly like the way the story was going. Taking too long to get to the good parts, you know what I mean? Well, bear with me if you already read this story, and if you haven't, read and enjoy!

Notes:

- Just get through the first few chapters and you will be pleasantly surprised. I have to introduce the new characters, etc.

- There may be a romance in this book, and perhaps plot lines may seem a little "heavy" for first-years. Due to that, please disregard age - _she is the age of a first-year for the purpose of showing the Sorting and her reaction to being in Slytherin. She is more mature throughout the rest of the book._

Erm, I hade more to say . . . can't remember now! So, enjoy, and tell me what you think.

**Disclaimer: As much as I wish I had J.K. Rowling's genius, Harry Potter and all things relating to it are in no way mine. The only things I claim are the new characters and the plotline. Only disclaimer that I plan on posting, so get the picture _now._**


	2. The Future

It was a serene day in the neighborhood, the sun shining overhead without a cloud in the sky. It was your average complex, with all of the homes of similar models, yet it was far from ordinary. The residents of the neighborhood would proudly inform you, if you asked, that this was the first all-wizard communitie since Hogsmeade. It would not be found on a tourist's map of the area, but ask the right person for Mandrake Court, and you would be pointed in the right direction.

The person who divulged this information would surely be eager to let you in on another little tidbit of news. To add to its prestige, this was the home of one of the most famous wizards of all time. Once he was known as Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, but now he is far more renown for his valuable work in the Ministry in the Magical Games and Sports Department. And that is the way he would like it to be in these times of peace, with the adventures of his childhood lodged in a far corner of his brain, for fond recollections but not every day life.

Today was a much more important day in the young man's, a mere five year out of Hogwarts, life. In number 10 Mandrake Court, Harry Potter was currently crouched beside a bed in a position surely uncomfortable for his long legs, holding the hand of a brunette girl who lay resting. A smile was upon their faces, both weary, yet both equally proud.

"Can a get you anything?" Harry inquired of the girl, his tone anxious and uncertain.

"I'm fine," replied Brooke. "Where is she?"

"In the nursery, sound asleep. Do you want me to get her for you?"

Brooke shook her head. "Let her sleep. She had a busy night."

Harry snorted. "We all did." A grin darted across Brooke's face, and she squeezed Harry's hand before drifting off into a much deserved rest.

What happened to the Boy Who Lived since his last days at Hogwarts? I understand this seems anticlimactic for a hero of so many tales. However, he is taking a well-deserved retirement from the business of conquering all evil and embarking on a new adventure - leading a normal wizarding life.

In truth, it will be impossible for Harry's life ever to be described as "normal". To the end of his day's he will be known as the boy who defeated he-who-can-now-be-named-freely: Voldemort. No longer does his name invoke terror upon those who hear it - it merely induces a shudder, remembering darker times before the end of his reign and the dawn of peace.

Harry Potter, with the aide of his two dearest companions, Dumbledore, and many others, finally vanquished Voldemort for all. The tale of this accomplishment is a whole other story, and better told another day (*cough*ByJKROWLINGS*cough*). All of their years at school had been focused on accomplishing this task, and without it for them to focus on, the trio of Potter, Weasley, and Granger had to come up with ways to survive on their own. Harry was lucky to have numerous connections, and was quickly placed in a high-ranking position in the department of Magical Games and Sports. With him as a spokesperson, many of the lesser known events in the world of magical sports would draw crowds, adding diversity to the sporting events wizards would frequent.

Ronald Weasley also worked in the Ministry, employed in the Improper Use of Magic Department. It was his duty to track down and punish those who misused their gift - ironic, since he was one of the Weasley boys, notorious for their disregard of rules during their school days.

Hermione, with all of her talent in various areas, finally settled down with a job writing for _Witches' Weekly _magazine. Ron once told Harry it was quite fitting, considering it would give her the perfect opportunity to share her knowledge on everything with everyone. The two of them shouldn't be the only lucky ones, he added.

But what of their lives beyond work? On one of his first assignments, Harry met a girl named Brooke, an aspiring journalist, when being interviewed on the upcoming Quidditch World Cup. Brooke also happened to be a close friend of Hermione's at the time, and when the sparks were evident between the two, Hermione made certain to feed the fire.

Hermione is always good at what she does. The two were married within a year.

Ron needed no help finding a match - she had been there all along. It was a girl named Faye, who had been a Ravenclaw in the same year as Ron and his companions. A friendship was struck up when a mutual hatred of Draco Malfoy was discovered. Their matching was far from perfect; both had fiery tempers which egged each other on, yet it was always amusing for their companions.

Hermione was much more interested in the love lives of her friends than her own. She had many brief romances, but work always interfered with them developing into more serious relationships. She was a free ranger, oblivious to possible suitors that admired her from afar, caught up in the excitement of her work.

Enough dwelling in the past - let me bring you back to the present day. After Brooke fell asleep, Harry quietly left the room and headed for the den. On his way he passed the pink nursery, and couldn't resist peeking in. There she was, resting in the cradle. On her head was a soft fuzz of black hair, and although they weren't visible at the moment, her eyes were the large hazel ones of her mother. Harry started when he heard a cough behind him. He turned around quickly, relaxing when he saw his lanky redhead friend.

"Ron! When did you get here?" he softly enquired, not wanting to wake either his wife or daughter.

Ron grinned. "Faye and I just Apparated. We let ourselves in - sorry, but you really need to find a better hiding place for the spare key than under the mat. Hermione should be here soon, too." He craned his head, attempting to get a glimpse into the nursery. "I should have known Brooke would make it pink. It's a girl, right?" he added as a worried afterthought.

Harry rolled his eyes and nodded. Relieved, Ron asked, "So what are you naming the new Potter?"

The proud grin reappeared at once on Harry's face. "Anne."


	3. The Letter

Many years later the room was no longer pink. The color had been changed to a soft blue, and any resemblance to a nursery was no more. A young girl was perched upon the bed with an air of tense excitement. Her eyes kept darting to the digital clock on the nightstand. 7:58 . . . 7:59 . . . 8:00. She sprang up as if shot, tearing down the hall to the master bedroom.

Her swift paced slowed abruptly as she reached the doorway, ending in a complete standstill. She held onto the doorframe, leaning precariously into the room. A quick glance told her it was empty. She cautiously entered the area, heading over to the nightstand. She rifled through the pile of papers, only to  throw them down in disgust. Only old bills waiting to be paid. With a roll of her eyes, she angrily stormed out of the room and headed towards the kitchen.

Both of her parents were already present. Her father was pulling plates down from the upper cabinet while her mother finished cooking their eggs. Both turned around as she entered, Brooke quickly noticed the annoyed look in her daughter's eye. Amused, she turned back around, continuing to beat the yolk.

Harry got down their plates and set them on the table. The girl was already seated, and Harry pulled up the chair next to her. The two sat for a moment in uncomfortable silence, the girl's eyes occasionally darting up to assess her father's face. Finally, Harry spoke.

"You know, Anne, I'd really like to read the _Prophet_. Would you mind getting it for me?"

Anne paused a moment, staring at Harry in surprise, yet wasted no time reaching the front door. "Crap," she thought, "they didn't bring in the post?" Anne, a typically late riser, was used to having her parents perform this task for her. She had originally thought that their omission of its contents had been cruel and unusual punishment - withholding such information would be easily defined as this.

Anne stepped out onto the front porch, glancing around at the neighboring houses she knew contained her peers. She grinned - apparently they were far more prompt than she was. A noise attracted her attention and she turned around, focusing across the street. Another girl of about the same age stepped out, catching her gaze. Anne raised her hand in greeting, yet quickly picked up the mail and reentered the house. Today there was no time for such formalities.

She let the mail fall onto the table, narrowly missing her father's breakfast. Her parents watched, curious, as she rifled determinedly through the mail.

"Junk, junk, junk . . . aha!" she finally cried triumphantly, proudly holding up a beige envelope. Anne eagerly tore it open, scanning the contents with growing excitement.

"Mum, Dad, I'm going to Hogwarts!" she gleefully announced, waving the letter around with pride. From behind she was enveloped in her mother's hug, while Harry, always the proud father, picked up the letter and read it with pride. Anne, after her celebration, looked up at her father and smiled.

"By the way . . . happy birthday, Dad."

A/N – haha, last phrase _total fluff! You'll just have to bear with me, it seemed like the perfect ending! Okay, of course it's a short chapter, but it seemed like the perfect place to end it. Touching moment, you know? Okay, next chapter is on its way now . . . seeing as how the first few are written, it should come fairly quickly._


	4. Diagon Alley

The small family sat down for breakfast, a delightfully chatting about the news and day ahead. Anne put down her fork first, waiting expectantly for her parents to finish. Once they were done she gathered up their dishes, dumping them unceremoniously into the sink. Harry stood up and walked over to the cabinet, pulling out a small drawstring pouch. He opened it up and peered inside at its contents.

"Hmm, we're a bit low on Floo powder. Better buy some today. A handful for each of you, then off to Diagon Alley. You have the list, Anne?" His daughter held it up as she reached in for a bit of the green powder.

"Good. Now, off we go!"

The three trooped into the den, where Harry proceeded to step into the fireplace. He threw down the powder, and with a cry of "Diagon Alley" he disappeared. Brooke, then Anne, followed suit.

Anne appeared in the grate of Flourish and Blotts, stepping out into the brightly lit bookstore. Anne looked around for her parents, and finally spotted them talking animatedly to the Weasley couple. She smiled - it had been a while since she saw the close family friends. She started to stroll over to greet them when she heard her name called out behind her.

"Anne? Where do you think you're going?" A delighted grin appeared across her face as she spotted one of her dearest friends, Kevin Weasley.

"Looking for you, of course," she easily replied, going to stand by the gangly young man. She picked up a copy of the book he was idly flipping through, arching her brows in amusement.

"A Revised Quidditch Throughout the Ages? Somehow I don't think that's on the required reading list."

"Of course not, schools would never assign anything like that. Actually, I still need to find 201 Magical Herbs and Fungi. Have you purchased your books yet?"

Anne rolled her eyes. "I just got here."

"Right," Kevin replied dismissively, and the two walked off buy their school supplies.

As they exited Flourish and Blotts, Anne glanced over her shoulder, catching a view of Ron's red hair, "Do you think our parents will miss us?"

"Nah," Kevin said. "They probably won't even notice we left. Now, where do we need to go?"

"Everywhere," Anne replied with a sigh. "I'm really curious about visiting the Apothocary, though. Did you see some of the stuff we need?"

"Rat spleen, eye of newt, armadillo bile . . . " Kevin trailed off with a grin. 

Anne rolled her eyes at her old friend's childish sense of humor, and finally their path passed Quality Quidditch Supplies. Kevin halted, staring at the window.

"A Firebolt 2000! New on the market you know. Look, there's Ian Finnigan." He pointed at their old friend. "Want to come and look?"

"Later," she responded, still musing about the purchases needed to be made. Kevin shrugged his shoulders and walked off to join Ian. The two were a small part of the crowd talking animatedly at the new broom at the market - rumored to be the best yet. While Anne was a devoted follower of Quidditch (How could a Potter be otherwise?), at the moment she was much more interested in preparing for Hogwarts.

The next store she passed was Fancy Robes (Madame Malkins went out of style), and she decided to enter. The atmosphere was slightly stuffy, yet it was surprisingly empty so close to the start of the new school year. Anne navigated her way through the maze of racks, scanning the new styles and fabrics on display, almost running into the owner of the shop.

"You gave me a start, dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Jersey. She sized her up. "Hogwarts, I presume? Yes, we have another one of you tykes here. Take a seat over there, and I'll be over to get your measurements in a moment."

Anne nodded and followed the direction Mrs. Jersey pointed. A sandy haired boy was sitting in one of the chairs clustered into the far corner, idly skimming through an article of _The Quidditch World_. He glanced up as Anne entered and took the seat beside him.

"Hogwarts?" he asked. Anne nodded. "Same. My name's Mark."

Anne smiled politely at him. "Anne."

"Nice to meet you," he responded. "So, what house are you going for?"

Anne answered immediately. "Gryffindor. My whole family went there, and I'm certain most of my friends will as well. You?"

Mark raised his brows scornfully. "Gryffindor? I suppose that isn't as bad as some houses. I hope I'm in Slytherin, though – it feels good to be considered scum," he added with a wink.

Anne frowned curiously at him, disconcerted by the last comment.. In an attempt to change the subject, she glanced at the article he was reading.

"Britain better get into the World Cup this year. These past few years have been a disgrace."

Mark nodded, looking disgusted. "Slaughtered by Ireland last year. That won't happen again, though. This article here says that Britain is going to be getting the new Firebolt line this year. No one is going to beat them on those babies."

Anne shrugged. "Brooms get far too much credit. A good Quidditch player is a good Quidditch player no matter what broom he or she is riding - it just gives a slight advantage." She held up her hand and closed the gap between her thumb and pointer finger to signify how tiny this advantage was. 

Mark grinned. "Everyone's entitled to their own opinion. I'll just have to teach you that mine's the right one, huh?"

Anne rolled her eyes, and their banter was broken up by the return of Mrs. Jersey. Once she got her measurements, Anne left, ready to return within an hour.

She met up with Kevin, who finally seemed satisfied with admiring the new broom. They were planning their next course of action when Mark walked out.

"See you at Hogwarts, Anne. Hey, be sure to talk to you come the World Cup – I love to gloat," he added with a smirk. He was joined by a man Anne presumed to be his father, and the two disappeared around a corner.

"What are you talking to him for?" Mike asked with disgust.

Anne turned around, surprised. "Why wouldn't I? He's going to Hogwarts, too, you know."

"I gathered that," Mike replied snidely. "But that doesn't excuse the fact that you were talking to a _Malfoy_."

A/N – Hey guys, I know this was _similar to a chapter in J.K. Rowling's book, but definitely not the same! Malfoy and Potter meet in a robe shop. Anything else? I think not! Better not be . . . I worked hard not to give you guys any leverage to flame me with!_


	5. The Sorting

Anne anxiously looked around platform nine and three-quarters, anxiously chewing on her lower lip. Her eyes continued to dart around, searching through the chaotic scene. A relieved grin spreading across her face as she spotted her mother running up to her. Harry followed at an only slightly more dignified pace.

"Anne! What took you so long?" Brooke asked, enveloping her daughter into a massive hug.

Anne laughed. "Kevin had to convince me that the barrier wouldn't bite. I can't believe I'm going off to Hogwarts!" Her voice warbled slightly as she said this - it had only just dawned on her that this would be the last time she would see her parents in months.

"We'll kick out the boarders when you're ready to come home," Harry replied, attempting to lighten the tone. "But seriously, you're welcome home over every break."

"And send us owls all of the time," Brooke added. She gave Anne one last peck on the cheek as the rumble of the train's engine grew increasingly louder. "Get on the train now! We wouldn't want you to be late for your first day."

Anne nodded, giving her parents her last pecks on the cheeks before dragging her trunk after her up to the train. She was one of the few students not boarded yet – the majority of those around her were friends and family bidding loved ones farewell. Anne suddenly caught sight of Kevin's vibrant red hair. He was holding a compartment door open, beckoning for her to get in.

"Hurry up!" he cried. Anne took off at full sprint, taking Kevin's hand and leaping onto the train in a less-than-graceful manner. She was sprawled on the floor as Kevin let the door slam shut and the train swiftly started off.

"That's attractive," a girl seated near the doorway teased. Anne looked up, slightly annoyed, but grinned when she realized it was merely another old friend.

"Jen! It seems like it's been forever!" she exclaimed as she was helped up by Kevin.

"Seriously! I haven't seen you since, what, school ended?"

"Oh my God, an _entire_ month!" cried Ian, feigning horror at the idea. He glanced at Kevin, raising his eyebrows meaningful at him. "How did they survive?"

Kevin grinned, yet turned his attention back to rifling through his book bag. "Crap, where's my Transfiguration book?"  
  
Jen furrowed her brows curiously. "Why so eager to learn? That's not the Kevin I know."

Kevin flipped aimlessly through the pages before finally slamming it shut in disgust. "How boring! Isn't Hogwart's supposed to be _fun?"_

The laughter and chit-chat continued as London whipped speedily by, gradually turning into lush green countryside as they grew nearer and nearer to Hogwarts . . .

"Follow me," Anne cried over the intense noise level. She grabbed hold of Kevin's arm, dragging him after her to the small fleet of rowboats. Ian and Jen had already claimed one, waiting impatiently for Anne and Kevin to join them. Once the four were uncomfortable seated on the hard wood, Kevin and Ian took up the oars and rowed after the rest of the first-years. Once away from the remainder of the students, the noise level decreased dramatically. However, the children did not take this opportunity to restart their discussions. A far more majestic sight had claimed their attention - the towering, and awe-inspiring sight of the Hogwart castle.  
  
The fleet finally reached the opposite shore, and all of the students proceeded to unsteadily get out of their boats. Anne caught Jen's eye, a nervous grin mirrored on each of their faces. The small foursome followed the rest of the first-years up to the massive double doors. The teacher, a pretty young woman, fumbled a moment with the handle before pushing open the door. A collective gasp rippled through the group, and an amused smile appeared upon the lady's face.  
  
"Wonderful, isn't it? The rest of the students are already in the Great Hall, and they're all waiting to meet you," she added with a wink. "We must proceed with the Sorting, and you'll get further instructions from your house prefects."  
  
"What's she talking about?" murmured a nervous girl to her left. Anne glanced at her curiously before it dawned on her. This girl was Muggle born - she had always taken it for granted that everyone knew about Hogwarts and its customs.  
  
"Come along, you'll understand once we get started," the teacher replied. She set off at a brisk pace down a cavernous hall, the footfalls of the pack echoing off of the walls. They reached a final doorway at the end of the hall, and the teacher led them through it. The nervous group drew tighter together, staring up in awe at Hogwart's entire student body.  
  
Anne looked apprehensively around the Great Hall, catching sight of familiar faces and older friends. On a stool in the center of the room was the tattered old Sorting Hat - Anne assessed it, an insanely girlish thought racing through her head. _Where has that hat been__?  
  
The young teacher stepped up to the stool, and with a flick of her wand a piece of parchment appeared in her hands.  
  
"Acany, James."  
  
James was promptly sorted into Hufflepuff, and sat down with his new house amidst great cheering from his new "family". James was followed by Alina, Kim, and Brown, Curt. Anne observed with glee as Ian and Jen were sorted into the Gryffindor, and with wary curiosity as Mark Malfoy was placed into Slytherin. However, that didn't pertain to her so long as the "gang" was together. Finally, she was called up before the school.  
  
"Potter, Anne."  
  
Anne strode confidently up to the stool, taking the Sorting Hat and placing it over her head. The wide brim fell past her eyes. A tiny voice was heard only to her ears as it mused over what to do.  
  
"Hmm, another Potter. I haven't seen one of you since your father went to this school. Yes, two of a kind - clever and daring, with that extra thirst to prove yourself. It has always been obvious where he should have been placed, now you as well. The house that would lead you to greatness would definitely be** Slytherin!"  
  
The last word was shouted for the entire school to hear. Anne remained immobile, finding it impossible to move. **__Her, in __Slytherin? That couldn't be! She remained seated, waiting for the hat to utter a retraction to its painfully obvious error.  
  
"Prenell, Ray," the teacher called out. It was what Anne needed to be shaken out of her stupor - she stood up and placed the hat back on the stool, keeping her head down as she walked hastily towards the Slytherin table. It seemed to her that every eye in the Great Hall was boring in on her, whispering and hissing under their breath.  
  
Anne finally raised her gaze as she walked up the stairs to the table. She caught sight of Mark, sitting there and appearing very much at home. There were no other semi-friendly faces at the table. With a sigh she sat next to the young man, staring fixedly ahead of her.  
  
"You never told me you were a Potter," Mark startled her by whispering into her ear.  
  
"You never told me you were a Malfoy," Anne shortly replied.  
  
"A Potter shouldn't be in Slytherin. It seems as if the universe must be totally out of whack."  
  
Anne finally turned to look at Mark, her expression shocked and furious. "That would be correct," she snapped. "I'm not meant to be with people like you."  
  
It was Mark's turned to appear angry. "People like me? Watch what you say - you are surrounded by people like me, and it appears as if you will be for the next seven years."  
  
This realization hit Anne hard. It was true - all of her dreams had been shattered with one simple proclamation, uttered by a typically inanimate object. However, the world didn't stop as she sat at the Slytherin table, friendless and alone in hostile territory, anguishing over the fact that this is how it would be for the remainder of her school years._

A/N – Hey, too those of you who read this far before – see how I changed it into longer, yet more action-packed chapters? Yeah, go me! Anyways, this sets the scene for the rest of the book . . . now let's start on the fun stuff! ;^)


	6. Eavesdropping

"Your schedule's here."  
  
Anne took the paper Mark handed to her, listlessly scanning over it. Her heart leaped a bit as she noticed that the majority of her classes were shared with the Gryffindors, except for the dismal exceptions of Transfiguration and Divination. Mark, who was sitting to her left at the Slytherin table the morning after the Sorting, noticed the delighted expression on her face. A classic Malfoy sneer appeared instantaneously.  
  
"Happy that you're with your Gryffindor friends? Remember that it's still just us Slytherins at night."  
  
Anne's hand rose to her temples, exasperated with Mark and the situation in general. After a moment she lowered them, solemnly meeting Mark's eyes.    
  
"I'm really sorry about what I said last night. I was just upset."  
  
Mark cocked a brow. "Upset that now you're stuck with me?"  
  
"Of course it's not you!" Anne exclaimed. She paused as she realized how that statement sounded. "Erm, I mean, any of your friends, too. It's just not what I expected, or anyone in my family for that matter."  
  
Mark shrugged. "Who cares what your family thinks?" An impish grin appeared on his face when he observed her expression. "I get it, you do. But your family doesn't always know what's best for you, you know. That's the Sorting Hat's area."  
  
The conversation ceased as Mark averted his attention zealously to his breakfast. Anne, however, appeared to have lost her appetite. _That's the Sorting Hat's area. He was right, she realized. It was the Sorting Hat's purpose in "life" to choose what house each student went to, and she had never heard of a mistake being made before. So what did that mean about her?  
  
That she was perfect Slytherin material, she realized dismally. The first Potter in her recollection to be in this house, the house that was known for producing some of the vilest wizards of all time. Was she as evil and manipulative as those who set the precedent for the sort of people that entered this house? Heaving a great sigh, she rocked back into her chair, gaze wandering around the packed Great Hall.  
  
Anne's attention was perked by a group sitting in the row in front of her. Her lip curled in disgust as she heard their cruel comments and crude jokes. She wasn't like them, she firmly decided. She did not believe in what they did, no matter what the Sorting Hat said. The mystery of why she was placed her was still predominant in her thoughts, yet to dwell on it much longer would surely shatter her fragile faith in herself.  
  
Anne's attention was caught as she heard a particular word: __Voldemort. A shiver of fear passed through her, yet she listened attentively. The speaker was an older blonde girl, surrounded by a close-knit group of young men and women around the same age.  
  
"They said think they've actually defeated us," she murmured, a smirk appearing upon her face. "What simple minded fools. Oh," she sarcastically began, "take out the mothership and the rest will surely be defeated as well!" Her friends chuckled at her snide joke. "Let them wait and see . . . the Dark Lord is coming back . . ."  
  
Anne was confused by these comments, yet they filled her with a sense of unease. Voldemort was gone. He wasn't even a factor in her lifetime! How could he be coming back? She turned to Mark, excited to notice that he was listening to the girl as well.  
  
"What do they mean?" she whispered into his ear.  
  
Mark turned quickly to face her, the intense expression on his face shocking.  
  
"What did you hear?" he replied.  
  
Anne nervously shrugged. "Everything, I guess."  
  
Mark's eyes narrowed. "You're not supposed to hear stuff like that. You're a Gryffindor at heart, you know. I'd give you ten __minutes to snitch! Crap, you guys always want to take us down, don't you?" His voice never raised above a furious whisper, yet the anger in his eyes was shocking.  
  
"You're the one who said that the Sorting Hat never makes mistakes," she calmly reminded him, shocking even herself. Was she admitting to this? No, of course not. "I'm in Slytherin, remember? Maybe I'm not quite what you imagined I'd be."  
  
Mark paused, appearing to be mulling over this fact. On odd expression appeared on his face, and he finally shrugged, shoving out his chair and standing abruptly up.  
  
"You heard them. The Dark Lord is coming back." With that last statement he walked away, leaving Anne all alone with this horrifying new knowledge.  
  
A/N – Um, kinda sad ending, but gimme a ring of if can think of anything better! Oh, and by the way, I KNOW that first-years don't take Divination. **Read the prologue.**_


	7. Transfiguration

Anne was walking down the long corridor, clutching her book bag to her chest. There was a lively chatter all around her, yet she was alone in this busy hallway. Anne started as she felt a tap on her shoulder - she whirled around quickly, startled, yet an ecstatic beam appeared when she saw Kevin's friendly face.  
  
"This has been so horrible!" she wailed, throwing her arms around his neck. From over his shoulder she saw Jen and Ian smirking, and she quickly let go, frowning at them.  
  
"We could've guessed," Jen said sympathetically. "How in the world did you end up in Slytherin?"  
  
Anne lowered her gaze. "Good question, and I want to know the answer probably even more than you. But give me a break, guys, I really don't want to talk about it right now." Her last words were a plea to let the subject drop.  
  
"Gotcha," replied Ian. "I have to ask this, though. Are they all total jerks, or have you at least made some friends?"  
  
Kevin cut in before she could answer, speaking for the first time since they had met up. "She has - Mark Malfoy, right?"  
  
Kevin glared at Anne, yet she matched his expression with equal displeasure. "Kevin, I've just been thrown into a House with perfect strangers that I've despised all of my life. I really don't have a lot of options in the friend department, okay?"  
  
Kevin nodded, looking abashed. "Okay, sorry about that. I just hate to see you hanging out with a Malfoy."  
  
Ian snickered. "Or in other words, he's jealous." He winked at Anne, yelping in surprise as Kevin punched his arm.  
  
"Crap, we've got to go," Jen cried, breaking up the reunion. "But don't worry, you have your next few classes with us. Hang in there, okay?" Jen gave her a quick hug before walking off with her two companions, leaving Anne feeling more alone than she did before.  
  
Anne was among the last to walk into the Transfiguration classroom, taking a back row seat next to another girl. Her table partner had a foul look upon her face as she stared around the classroom, and seemed to dare anyone to approach her. Anne did not take up the challenge any further.  
  
A moment before the bell rang, the door opened once more. In swept an elderly woman, followed by an eager young lady. Anne's eyes grew wide as she recognized the latter female. There was no opportunity to say anything, though - the two went up to the front of the classroom, the younger taking a seat behind the desk while the older remained standing.  
  
"Good afternoon, class." She paused a moment to take a look at her schedule. "My name is Professor McGonagall, and I am Hogwart's Transfiguration teacher as well as Deputy Headmistress. In this class you will learn an extremely complicated form of magic, and will be tutored by me and Miss Hermione Granger." She gestured to the woman behind the desk. "I trust you've all looked at your books?" She frowned as a nervous murmur rose. "I guess I was wrong. Please, open to page ten, and read up on the color spell. Hurry up - from now on you will all be _ready by the time I arrive!"  
  
All of the students scrambled through their book bags, a few sarcastic comments rising above the din. The room quickly grew silent as the students poured studiously over the assigned pages. Professor McGonagall soon came around with a plain square of fabric - their job was to change it into an electric blue.  
  
The period passed slowly, many of the students growing frustrated and bored. Anne was the only one able to have an effect on the cloth – her's turned the grayish-blue color of a very stormy sky. The teacher held it up for the class to admire, earning Anne nasty looks from her classmates. __Thanks a lot, Professor.  
  
After the bell rang, Anne took her time packing up her books. Once all of the students had left, the teachers prepared to as well. Professor McGonagall walked out the door first, nodding at Anne as she passed. Hermione, however, stopped by her desk, a delighted grin upon her face.  
  
"Anne, I haven't seen you in so long! How are your parents? How are you?"  
  
A wavering smile appeared on Anne's face as well. "My parents are fine. Father is very busy, though, preparing for next year's World Cup." There was a moment of silence after this. Hermione looked at Anne carefully.  
  
"And how are you?"  
  
Anne sighed, lowering her gaze. "How do you think I am? I'm in Slytherin! Couldn't be better," she finished sarcastically.  
  
Hermione sighed, patting her arm. "Don't worry about it."  
  
"How could I not? I'm the first Potter to be in Slytherin for centuries! I don't even know if a Potter ever was in Slytherin."  
  
"You may be surprised," Hermione cryptically replied. Anne glanced at her, confused. "But don't worry about it. Do your parents know yet?"  
  
"No," Anne whispered. "I've been afraid of what they'll say."  
  
"Your friends have been fine, haven't they? I'm positive your parents will be the same. If you want, though, I can write to them for you."  
  
Anne finally met her eye. "Would you? That would mean so much to me."  
  
Hermione nodded. "You have enough to worry about here."  
  
With this pressing matter out of the way, Anne ventured on to a new subject.  
  
"Hermione, what are you doing here?"  
  
Hermione grinned. "I've been waiting for you to ask! I'm going to be an aide for Professor McGonagall, at least for the first semester. I'm writing an article on Hogwarts. __Witches' Weekly readers want to know what goes on behind this school's closed doors."  
  
Anne nodded, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Hermione, I'm going to be late for my next class. I'm so glad you're going to be here for a while though!" With a quick hug she ran off to her next class, just a little more content knowing that there was another friendly face within this cold castle.  
  
A/N – Yeah, kinda anticlimactic chapter, but Hermione does play a big role in the story. I couldn't leave her out! Gnash, have you noticed I stink at endings? TOUGHIES! Anyways, I'm about to strike onto new territory and right new chapters for the messed up story. Wish me luck!_


	8. The Invitation

"You're Anne Potter, aren't you?"  
  


Anne glanced up from the parchment before her as she heard the voice, turning around to face the stranger.

"Yeah, that's me," Anne cautiously replied. The questioner was the girl from breakfast that morning. Anne looked around for her group of cronies. There they were, standing near the fire in the Slytherin common room. Anne frowned as she spotted Mark amongst them.

"You know Mark, don't you? He told me to come get you. We all need to talk." The girl arched her brows as Anne remained immobile, merely staring up at her. "C'mon, I know you're not deaf. I'd advise you come with me, unless you're having fun being a total loner."

Once again Anne glanced around the common room. Everyone was chatting in little clusters, and everyone at least had _one friend. Anne was the exception – she had been sitting at a small table all alone, wholly focusing her attention on her Herbology homework. With a sigh she stood up, letting the book slam shut. __You can't be friendless for the next seven years._

The two walked over to the crowd – mainly comprised of guys, Anne noted. She and the strange girl were the only females there.

"Hey," the girl sharply called out, silencing the group. "This is Anne Potter. Anne, I'm Kate, and here's Tim, Carl, and, well, you and Mark both know each other," she finished with a smirk. Anne glanced curiously at Mark, yet the young man merely continued to listen to Kate speak. 

"Mark says that you heard what we were talking about this morning."  
            Anne stiffened, feeling uncomfortable under the intense stares of the young people around her. She noticed with suspicion that the looks were far from friendly. There was an eternity of awkward silence before Anne warily responded. 

"I may have overheard something . . ."

Kate smirked. "Now don't be shy! Mark told us all everything we needed to know." Anne's eyes darted for a moment to Mark, still leaning nonchalantly against the stone wall, seething a moment with a feeling of utter betrayal. But what did she expect? He was a Malfoy, after all.

Anne flipped her dark hair away from her face, coming to terms with their obvious knowledge. "Sure, I heard quite a lot. So why do you have to talk to me about it? Don't worry, I won't go telling."

Kate rolled her eyes, shoving Anne's shoulder in what was supposed to be a friendly manner. Anne, however, stiffened, stumbling backwards slightly from the light touch. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"We're not worried about that," Kate informed her in a mock-soothing tone. "We've got ways of keeping people quiet. We actually wanted to make an offer to you."

Anne waited impatiently while Kate paused for the dramatic effect. "Which would be?"

"We're offering to have you join us," Mark cut in. "The Dark Lord is coming back, and he needs all the supporters he can get."

"Voldemort is gone," Anne replied, her voice wavering slightly.

Mark grinned. "He is – you Potters made sure of that. But there are still those who share the same beliefs as him, if not a little varied. We're some of them, and we're offering you the chance to help us aide in the uprising of the new Dark Lord."

"Everyone knows how it was when Voldemort was in power," Anne spat out. "Muggle killings, disposing of any wizard that stood in the way of their conquest to power. My grandparents were two of those wizards. Why would I support those who supported their deaths?"

Anne paused a moment, contemplating this question. "You told me that I'd be surprised in you, that perhaps you were more of a Slytherin than I had thought. Here's a chance for you to prove yourself, to every Slytherin in this room right now, and to me." His cold gray eyes, so reminiscent of those of his father's before him, bore intensely into Anne's. A shiver ran through her, a shiver of fear . . . and excitement. For a moment she was ready to totally comply, if only to prove herself to Mark. She quickly shook herself out of this train of thought, avoiding the boy's quelling gaze.

_What to do? Here she stood, surrounded by a pack of vengeful Slytherins. Throughout their cruel and sometimes bloody history they had proven themselves immune to feeling when it came to murdering those that stood in their way. She was certain she would merely be a crumb to flick off the table if she opposed them. Now it was not only a battle of morals – it was also one of survival. They would be around every corner, and every moment she would be in danger. To survive she would have to go along with them. __Simple as that. A shudder passed through her at the mere thought, yet she slowly raised her head to meet Mark's gaze._

"I'm in."

A/N: Ooo, the suspense! Stay tuned for more!


End file.
